


Zexion's Perspective

by MelodiouslyNocturne



Series: Rules Of Three [2]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Anal Sex, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Drug Use, Semi-Public Sex, alcohol consumption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-18 08:00:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 18,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/877469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodiouslyNocturne/pseuds/MelodiouslyNocturne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rules of Three - Continuation of Zexion's side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Awkward

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is majority sex. You're really not missing anything if you skip it.

“You’re really pretty.” Demyx slurred in my general direction, his head lolling back and forth.

“You’re really drunk.” I responded, breathing heavily under his weight. Normally, Jakesby Hall was a 10 minute walk from the bar, but this man wasn’t making it very easy. We’d already stopped twice for him to puke, another time for him to put his sweater back on (it was already on, but what did I know?). It was an unending struggle to his building, one made even more difficult by the hill it was perched on. “Can you walk?” I asked, pulling away from him a little bit.

He turned and smiled to me. “Of course I can!” He took a step. “See? Easy as-!” With a terrified shriek he tipped sideways and crashed to the ground. It took him a minute, but he did eventually get himself back up on his feet, completely unbalanced on one foot. “See? Like David Bowie said, _‘When you think about it, Adolf Hitler was the first pop star.’_ ” What? He turned and took a few uneven steps before dropping to the ground and hoisting himself back up, refusing my help.

Jakesby Hall is known by everyone on campus for always being open, no matter what time of day or year. Eventually, we made it up the stairs. At the door, he turned to me and smiled. “I had a really great time tonight.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “I’m glad to hear it. Now let’s g-”

“No, I want this to be perfect first.” He said, and attacked my lips with his. My eyes widened and I pushed him away. The look in his eyes resembled that of a kicked puppy. “What? Didn’t you feel the connection?”

“You’re drunk.” I said to him, holding him at arm’s length. “Let’s get you to bed so you can sleep. We can talk in the morning. Is that okay?” I asked, hand on the doorknob. He hung his head and nodded.

Very slowly, we walked over to the elevator, which opened as soon as I called for it. Up to floor 6. He sat down on the floor as the doors were closing, placed his head between his pressing hands as the car rose. As we reached his floor, he stood, shaking his limbs loose. Down the hall, 7th on the right.

Demyx opened the door. “Marshall! Have I ever told you I love you?” He exclaimed, running into the man and wrapping him in a full hug, ignoring the annoyed expression on his face. The blonde turned back to me. “Did I say I loved you too? Because I do! 100 millinon billnon percent!” He screeched, placing both hands on my cheeks and kissing me hard.

“Okay, lovey. Time for bed.” Marshall escorted him to bed and shoved him down. He turned back to me and offered up a half smile. “Sorry for making you drag him back here.”

I brushed it off. “No problem. I was heading this way.” Lies. “Is he always that… forward when he’s drunk?”

Marshall looked over his shoulder and laughed. “Him? He’s got the mentality of a six year old. He doesn’t know what forward means. He wasn’t too bad, was he?”

Shrugged. “He kissed me outside the building too.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Sorry about that. He gets much more, how do I put this… Friendly when he’s drunk. But thanks again for bringing him back. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Have a good evening.” I gave a small wave and turned, the dorm room closing behind me.

Every part of that encounter was awkward, from him kissing me the first time to my leaving. I don’t handle drunk people well, I don’t handle affection well, and I certainly don’t handle attractive strangers well. And Marshall, well… He was on the higher end of attractiveness.

The cool air, yet again, eased my nerves. We were on a big campus. The chances of me running into either of them was close to impossible, considering in the 2 months since the term started, I’d never seen them before. I would never see them again and we could ignore any chance of awkwardness between us.


	2. Plead

Of course, I was seeing Demyx everywhere. In the halls, outside my classes, in the quad. It astounds me that accidentally meeting someone one night suddenly means seeing them everywhere. Each time, he would try to talk to me. ‘ _Hey!_ ’ He’s always yell at me, leaving what I could only assume were his friends and run after me. Each time, I would sidestep him, darting into the washroom, library, hell, any room I thought I could ignore him in. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see him; I didn’t want to talk to someone who’d kissed me drunk. I’ve always had an issue with that.

It was only a matter of time before he finally caught hold of me before I could escape.

“Hey!” He grabbed my shoulders and spun me against the wall outside my biochem classroom.

“Hi.” I darted my head around, attempting to diffuse some of the looks we were receiving. Generally when someone is pushed against a wall, they are either kissed or beaten up. I hoped this would be neither.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” His lips turned to a pout, his eyes similar to those of puppy’s.

“I… Haven’t.”

“Oh.” He looked at me suspiciously. “Okay! What’s your name?” He asked, his mood taking a total 180.

I blinked, taken slightly aback. “Z-zexion.”

“Zexion.” He said, testing how it sounded. “That’s a funny name. I’m Demyx.” He took a step back and offered out his hand.

I rolled my eyes and took his hand. Of course I was the one with the funny name.

“So,” he started, pushing away from the wall and walking to the food court not far from the class. If it wasn’t for his staring at me, I’d most likely turn and leave. “I have a question.”

“Okay.” I held my books close to my chest in an attempt at protection. The last time I’d heard that wasn’t so pretty.

He blushed, finally breaking eye contact. “Can… Can I buy you coffee?” I stopped in my tracks. We’d met once and he already wanted to have coffee with me? He stopped and looked at me, concern etched under his happy face. “It’s okay if you say no.”

I opened and closed my mouth, not knowing how to respond. Yes? No? “Let me think about it,” escaped before I could stop it.

His eyes lit up. “Okay! Text me when you decide. You have a cell phone, right? My number is 555-3212.” He rushed, writing the number in the air as if it stayed there.

I wrote the number on my hand. “I’ll text you.”

He smiled. “Okay. Bye Zexion!” He waved, running after a group of his friends.

The rest of my day was a haze. The blonde. The stupid blonde. Spring something like that on me? Really? After you met me once, while you were drunk? Never in a million years would I accept a request such as that. Never have, never will.

Except…

_hey zexion. one of my friends knows your cousin, and she gave me your number. have you thought about it?_

_hi. can I call you zexy? zexion is too long to type._

_i hope you say yes._

_please please PLEASE say yes? it would make me feel better about puking on your shoes._

_zexy?_

_i have the right number, right?_

_pretty, pretty please?_

_im gonna keep texting you until you say something._

_ill beg if i have to._

_please?_

_pretty please?_

_pretty, pretty please?_

_pretty, pretty, pretty please?_

It was annoying. If I wanted to have the rest of my day back, I had better respond.

_You can’t call me Zexy. Nicknames are stupid. You can buy me coffee. When and where?_

Of course, I got a response back almost instantaneously.

_yay! ill just call you zexy when you arent here! :) how about… starbucks, 4?_

_Okay. I’ll see you then._

_okay! bye zexion!_


	3. Tease

Demyx had said 4 at Starbucks, and there I was. Corner chair, laptop out, caramel macchiato in hand. I had a paper due by midnight that I had foolishly procrastinated on doing. I typed like mad, barely looking up from the screen. I tilted the go cup to my lips, somewhat shocked when it was empty.

“Caramel macchiato, right?”

I jumped, nearly toppling my computer onto the floor. I raised my head, the blonde beaming at me. “Y-yeah. Venti. Extra hot.”

“Okay!” He jumped up, a moronic smile on his face.

I saved my work and put my laptop safely away, watching the blonde at the counter carefully. He easily chatted up the barista, a  short brunette girl with cheeks as bright as fire trucks. He walked back to the corner, a cup in each hand, a smile on his face. “So.” He said, setting my cup down and sitting.

I glanced at him, taking a sip. “So…?”

His cheeks tinted pink. “What did I do that night when I was drunk?”

“Well,” I drank, looking down and avoiding his gaze. “You puked twice-”

“On your shoes.” He nodded, apology written in his eyes.

“I hated those shoes anyways.” I smiled, accepting his apology. “You fell down, peed on the Dean’s lawn, kissed me in front of your building, and again when I took you to your dorm.” I said nonchalantly, making it less of a deal than it really was to me.

“Seriously?” I nodded. His hand clasped over his mouth, his cheeks flooding with red. “I… I’m so sorry. I don’t think that’s like me.”

I half smiled, brushing it off. “It’s fine. Marshall said you get more friendly when you’re drunk. It happens.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “I’m still really sorry. Thank you for taking me home.”

“No problem. Do you remember why you got thrown out?”

“Um…” He thought, repositioning himself in his chair, very nearly spilling his drink on him. “I think it was because I kissed someone’s girlfriend or boyfriend. I think. I don’t remember.”

I blinked. “Oh. And do you…?”

He nodded, smiling. “I get kicked out a lot. That’s why Marshall wrote me that note. So I could give to someone to take me home.”

“He’s takes good care of you, then.”

“Yep yep yep!” He smiled. I dropped my head, tracing the lid of the cup with my pinkie. I could feel his eyes  glancing over me, outlining me, drawing me. I glanced up, meeting his eyes. “You’re really pretty.”

Now it was my turn to blush. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course I do, silly!” He moved to the chair beside mine and turned to me. “Your eyes are pretty, your nose is pretty, your mouth is pretty, your hands are pretty,” He continued on, his body turned to me. His hand, placed on my thigh, moved upwards. His leg, hooked between mine, rubbed up and down.

Anything he had said when over my head with the taunting, teasing of his motions. It was all I could do not to moan in unwanted pleasure. I pushed back in my chair, sliding out of his grasp.

“What are you doing?”

“Hmm?” He looked up, his eyes a deeper green than they had been  before.

“You’re… You’re teasing me. I don’t quite appreciate it.”

He looked down at his hands and legs and jerked them back. “I’m so sorry…” He stood up and turned to leave.

“Wait, Demyx.” I stood, following him out of the corner coffee shop. I ran after him about a block, but I had no chance; he was far faster than me.

The walk to my room was a sad and dismal one. I regretted pointing it out. I didn’t regret it. I wanted him to stop.  I didn’t. I hated him. I didn’t. I wanted to see him again. I didn’t. I wanted to go out, get drunk.  I didn’t.

In the end, I decided this: I regretted pointing it out, I wanted him to stop, I didn’t hate him, I wanted to see him again, and I knew just the place to find him.


	4. Innocence

The club was already jumping by the time I got in there at 10; there had to be at least 150 people in the small area, more than half of which were occupying the dance floor. Instinctually I shoved my way to the bar, sharing a wave with a few people I knew from class, some of Eleri’s friends, some people who mistook me for someone they knew. Generally I wouldn’t take a visit to the club during the week, but I had a hunch. A hunch that a certain blonde I owed an apology to would be here. I took a seat at the bar, sandwiched between two couples more interesting in their partner’s anatomy than anything else in the club.

“Hey cutie. What can I get you?”

I looked up. “Hey Jacqueline. Can I get a… Porn Star? Double up.”

She winked at me. “No problem cutie.” She grabbed a glass and made my drink in front of me. “So I heard from a little birdie-”

“A little birdie named Eleri?” I asked, chin in hand. _Here we go._

“Obviously. So she told me that a blonde was asking for your number.”

I rolled my eyes. Knowing Eleri, there was a good chance 90 percent of the people in the club knew about him asking for my number from her. “And what magical story did my beloved cousin tell you?”

“Well, she said that it was the guy who was thrown out of the club for kissing some chick’s boyfriend. Not surprising, it happens all the time, especially to him. Poor kid; he’s got no filter. Anyways, she said, and I quote: ‘That little gay boy is trying to get with Zexion. Doesn’t he know he’s straight? It’ll never happen. That kid’s an abomination.’ Thoughts?”

I sighed. “Normal Eleri fashion. And you’re still friends with her because…?” I asked, honestly curious.

“I have no idea. So are you?” She leaned on the bar, bringing her head closer to me.

I took a sip of the drink. Perfect; enough alcohol to get me a little buzzed, but not drunk. Exactly what I needed to be. “I’ll tell you this: I’ve taken Biology all through school, and I can’t tell you a thing about the female anatomy aside from the obvious, but I could tell you everything about the male’s.” I smirked.

She slapped my arm. “You fruitcake! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Sorry! I thought El had brainwashed all her friends into thinking I was straight.”

“She did, but I didn’t believe her. So the blonde.” She smiled, clearly wanting more detail.

I shrugged, looking down into my glass. “I walked him home after he got kicked out. He puked on my shoes.”

“That’s not it.” I looked up at her. “He kissed you. Your cheeks are beet red.”

“It’s the lights.” I said, not even convincing myself.

She smiled widely. “And you totally liked it.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’ve figured me out.”

“And you were hoping you’d see him here.” She smirked, looking over my shoulder.

“Yes?” I said, looking at her curiously.

“Here’s your chance. He just walked in. And he’s been pre-drinking with his very attractive friend.” She pointed with her chin over my shoulder to the left. I spun and, indeed, he’d already been pre-drinking, the tell obvious in his clumsy steps.

I shot gunned the rest of the drink. “That’s his roommate Marshall. I’m going in.” I walked forwards, Jacqueline’s good luck calling from behind me. A crowd seemed to gather Marshall, shoving Demyx to the side clumsily. I smiled and shook my head; the poor kid.

He turned his head to see me walking towards him, looking bolder than I felt. “Hey Zex-”

My lips met his before he had a chance to finish his sentence. I pushed him against the wall a few inches behind him, my lips pressed firmly to his. His tense body quickly relaxed and his arms slid around me, one going to my back, the other resting on my ass cheek. I smirked into the kiss, licking his lips for entrance, which he easily and quickly granted. I explored his mouth, my hands moving all over his body. His body was a temple, as I suddenly realized, and deserved to be treated as such

Any sort of innocence I had walking into the club vanished with that kiss, that kiss that changed so much in the few short minutes we let it happen in.

I pulled back for air, panting heavily. He smiled and leaned in close to my ear. “What was that for?”

I angled my head directly to his ear. “Consider that an apology for how I acted. Text me, yeah?” I asked, my hand moving to his thigh and giving a gentle squeeze. I pushed away from him and exited the club, a smiled etched to my face.


	5. Sesons

Like the seasons, feelings change. You grow to hate things you used to love. You grow to love things you used to hate. You start to regret not reacting. You start to regret reacting.

The shift in my feelings was as quick as the shift from fall to winter: I regretted kissing Demyx at the club that night. The mere thought of it tightened the vice grip on my stomach. The sight of him induced an anxiety attack. The sight of others kissing reduced me to paranoia. I couldn’t deal with the emotions linked with my kissing him, an instant, unthought-of motion. I honestly didn’t think it would affect me as it had done.

I kept my head down for the next couple days, avoiding everyone’s eyes. Not to say I was a social person to begin with, but I spoke to no one, completely withdrew within myself. From the time after I returned to my dorm until I finally fell asleep, if I did at all, I was plugged into the computer, dedicating all my time to extra research papers.

My roommate, used to my antics, even found this suspicious. “Are you okay? You seem off.”

Eleri, my uncaring cousin noticed too when she forced me to spend time with her. “What’s wrong with you? Get a 98 on your paper?”

The professor I intern with, not used to me showing any sort of emotion, noticed. “Zexion? Is there something going on you would like to talk about?”

And I brushed them all off. This was something I needed to sort out on my own, no help from anyone else. I started this, and I would have to find some sort of way to get myself out of it.

Continuously, he tried to talk to me. Every time he said something, I ran the other direction, blew him off, anything. I couldn’t stand the sight of him. He noticed something was up.

_zexion? whats wrong? why are you ignoring me?_

_did i do something wrong?_

_please tell me what i did._

_zexion, please. you’re scaring me._

_tell me what i did. i swear ill be different._

_can i make it up to you?_

_zexion, just tell me what i did!_

If only I could balls up and tell him what was wrong. But… I couldn’t. I didn’t know why I couldn’t, I just… shut down whenever I tried. The words wouldn’t flow where they needed to, and even still, I don’t think I could tell him. I had already hurt him; I couldn’t see how I could do it again. It would be against my better judgment all the way.

And yet, I couldn’t let the kiss leave my mind. His warm lips on mine, his liquored tongue tasting me. My stomach tightened, the vice aiming to crush this time. My stomach lurched, the feeling of nausea sweeping through me. I kept the feeling at bay, biting my lip hard, standard practice for when such things arose.  _Zexion, breathe._ I thought to myself, taking deep breaths.

Instead of being stuck on the shift between fall and winter, I needed to be focused on the shift between winter and spring: everything was fresh, new, the feeling of change enveloped everything.

But I wasn’t ready to give up on winter.


	6. Open Your Eyes

Still hung up on winter, I began frequenting the club. That same club I met him in, and that I kissed him in. No, it wasn’t ideal; I knew better than anyone the effects of grief drinking, but Jacqueline worked there, and she provided that voice of reason that I so desperately needed to get out of this funk I was in.

I sat at the bar, rotating my empty beer glass, which I don’t commonly drink, between my hands. Foam ran down the sides, sporadically diverting and rejoining.

“Zexion?”

My head jerked up. “Hmm?”

Jacqueline rolled her eyes, leaning on the bar in front of me. “Can I get you another beer?”

I bit my lip. “How many have I had?”

“Three of them.”

I shrugged. It was a Thursday night, I didn’t have class until 3 the next day… “Why not?”

“Okay.” She poured another, handed me the glass, and stared at me.

“What?”

She looked around, checking the relatively empty bar and looking for the blonde. “Tell me what exactly the issue with Demyx is?”

I took another drink and set the glass down with a _thud._ “I didn’t want to kiss him.” She looked at me disbelievingly. “Well, I mean I did, but at the same time, I guess I didn’t?”

“That makes no sense and you know it.” She looked at me.

“I guess… I guess I’m not ready for a relationship.” I sighed, taking a drink.

She smiled. “Now we get to the root of it. Who says whatever that is is going to end up with you fucking?”

“I… I’ve got relationship issues.” I muttered, just loud enough for her to hear over the music.

“What kind of issues?”

“I get clingy and obsessed.”

“You? Never!”

“Oh ha ha.” I glared at her. “Seriously, I do. And I don’t want to be the clingy boyfriend that he never wants to see, and I don’t want to be the guy he fucks and leaves. I’d rather not be involved with him, only to get hurt.”

She smacked me in the forehead. “Open your god damn eyes! Have you not seen this kid?”

“Obviously.” I looked at her quizzically.

“Do you really think that he’d fuck you and leave?”

I dropped my head. She did have a bit of a point.

“And I’d say you’re more likely to not spend time with him. Have you seen that kid normally? Totally ADHD.” I chuckled. “What you need to do,” she started, taking my three quarters empty glass away from me. “You need to go up to him and talk to him. Stop your bloody wining, and go talk to him. What was that thing you keep saying?”

“Start thinking-”

“Start thinking about spring, exactly. Look, you’re a great guy; smarter than you sometimes know what to do with, personable, charismatic, loyal, hell, I’d dare say beautiful. It’s a wonder why there aren’t more people going after you.” I opened my mouth to protest, but she shut it down, continuing on. “You know you like him, and he knows that too. Just… Test the waters. See what happens. You can’t hate yourself if it doesn’t work out then.”

I sighed. “Fine. But I’m not beautiful.” She laughed. “Thanks.” I smiled, leaning across the bar and hugging her. I really needed that.

I paid my tab and left, staggering slightly under the four beer; I’m a bit of a lightweight. _Jacqueline’s right,_ I thought to myself, picking my way to Carmandy Hall, the location of my residence. I needed that verbal, and physical, smack to remind myself of what I had going on. She was right. What would be the harm of trying, seeing if it could work? Yeah, I was clingy and obsessive. It’d be something I’d have to work on, no matter who I was with. Who better than a ADHD rattled university student? And besides, maybe if I actually had a boyfriend my family would actually accept me. “Stop that.” I said to myself. “He isn’t a piece of meat. Ha. Meat.” I shook my head, clawing to get it out of the gutter.

_Hey Demyx. I’m sorry for ignoring you. I’ve had a lot to think about. Coffee? I’m buying this time._


	7. Compass

_Hey Demyx. I’m sorry I’ve been an ass. Think we could talk about it?_

I sent the message the morning after talking to Jacqueline. There was no harm in trying to talk to him, right? See what could be done? I sat through my biology class, impatiently waiting. It had been two weeks since the kiss, ten days since he’d last tried to talk to me, and six since I’d seen him. I needed to know he wasn’t… Well, just wasn’t. I’d tried calling and texting Marshall. Nothing from him either. Halfway through the second hour, my phone buzzed.

_tell me what i did first._

I bit my lip, attempting to phrase the words on my own.

_It wasn’t you. It was me. I’ll explain everything._

I waited out the rest of class, hoping for a response. None. My prof ended class and I walked out of the room with the other hundred students, my head hung in shame. Maybe he didn’t want me to explain? Maybe he figured it out on his own? Maybe he didn’t want anything to do with me? I turned to walk down the hall, the start of the dismal walk back to my dorm.

“Zexion! Wait!”

I whipped around, the tall blonde barreling towards me. I smiled as he wrapped his arms around me, crushing me.

“Hey Demyx.” I smiled when he released me.

He bit his lip nervously. “Hey.”

“So, uh,” I looked down at my feet, scuffing the floor. “Can I buy you coffee? So we can talk?” I raised my head, the blush radiating through my cheeks.

He smiled. “Yeah, sure.”

“Now?”

He looked at his watch. “Um… Yeah! I don’t have class until 8 tonight.”

We began walking, and I pulled out my phone, punching in an address. “Why so late? I am paying attention, just grabbing the address.”

“Instrumental music. We’re preparing for a concert. So where are we going?” He asked, spreading his arms wide in the sunshine.

“There’s this little café not far from here.” I stopped, mapping the route with my hand. “Let’s go.”

Fifteen minutes later, we were totally lost. Somewhere, we’d taken a wrong turn and had set us on the wrong route.

“Where do we need to be?” Demyx asked, stopping in the middle of the road.

“107th and 32nd.” I responded, trying to figure out where we were.

He licked his finger, held it to the air, and froze. I stared at him in disbelief. This isn’t going to work. “This way!” He pointed, skipping down the street.

“Demyx, let me check-”

“Nope!” He shouted back at me. “This way!” He waved. I rolled my eyes and ran up to catch him.

And I’ll be damned if he wasn’t a human compass.


	8. Broken

The café was emptier than I thought it would be on a Thursday night. There was the usual crowd of five surrounding the musician of the night, and another five at various tables and corners writing. Pretentious, I tell you. Pretentious. We stood in line awkwardly.

“Evening, gentlemen. What can I get for you?” The barista said.

“A large French vanilla cappuccino, please. Caramel drizzle on top. For Zexion.”

Demyx took a little longer to decide. “Do you like peppermint?” He asked me.

“Y-yeah, I guess.” I answered, taken by surprise.

“A large peppermint hot chocolate, please, with whip cream and caramel sauce and chocolate sauce. I’m going to go find a seat.” He blurted out, skipping to the far corner of the room.

“That’ll be for Demyx.” I spelled it out for her.

“Thanks. That’s $8.33.” I handed her a $10 and pocketed the change. “We’ll bring the drinks over when they’re done.

I smiled and nodded, carefully weaving my way through the tables to the oversized chairs Demyx had chosen. I sunk down into the one in the corner. “Why did you ask if I liked peppermint?”

“Oh.” He flushed bright red. “No reason.” He looked around. “This is a nice place. Not very big, though.” He listened intently. “But the acoustics are good, though.”

“They’re known for being a revenue for local up and coming musicians.”

“Maybe I’ll ask if I can come play in here!” He said, nearly bouncing out of his seat.

I laughed. “Are you feeling okay?”

He nodded. “I have ADHD.”

I smiled. “I know.”

The barista brought over our drinks. We thanked her and listened to the music for a little bit.

“So.” Demyx set down his cup after a long and loud slurp. “Tell me what I did.”

I set down my cup easily, pulling my feet under me. “Do you want the long story or the short story?”

He thought for a minute. His eyes brightened. “Does either of them have pirates in them?”

I smiled. “No, sorry.”

“Awe.” He sulked. “I guess the short one. But if I stop paying attention, I’m sorry. I’m out of medication. I get more tomorrow though!”

I smiled, his eyes locked on me. “So remember how I helped you back to the apartment and kissed me?” He nodded, blushing. “And how at the club a while back I kissed you?” Again, he nodded. “Well, after, I kind of regretted it.”

“Why?” He asked, his voice pleading, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“I thought I only kissed you because you were already kind of drunk, and I was tipsy and I thought I could get away with it. But then after, I was thinking, and every time I’d ever kissed someone, another guy, be it if I was drunk or not, I ended up being in a relationship with them. I didn’t know if you were gay or straight. I didn’t know if you actually liked me or if it was just the alcohol. I wasn’t ready to get into another relationship, if that’s what it even was. I get clingy and obsessive, and I was worried that you would hate being with me, think I was some sort of loser. I’m not ready to deal with that. Not yet.” I spoke quickly, my head down and my cheeks red.

“So, really…” He thought, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. “You didn’t know if I liked boys or girls and that made you all weird?”

I thought for a minute. “Yeah, actually. How did you get that out of everything else?”

He shrugged. “I don’t have a long attention span without my medicine or without trying really hard. I got good at picking out important information.” He took another sip, holding the cup to his lips. _Don’t think about his lips!_ I cursed to myself, stopping it before it happened. “I think I like boys more anyways.”

“What?” I blinked, focusing in on him.

He blushed. “I like boys more.” He dropped his head a little bit. “And I think I really like you.”

My cheeks flared up. “I… I think I might like you too.” I bit my lip.

“Can I…?” He asked, his eyes flashing to my lips and back. I nodded. Slowly, he leaned forward, his hand landed on my chin, and he pulled me into a delicate kiss.

He pulled away and I panted slightly, his kiss having, kill me now for saying this, taken my breath away.

“I’m kind of broken, just so you know.”

I cocked my head to the side. “You? Really?”

He nodded. “I don’t want to talk about it though. Just wanted you to know.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “Me too.”

“Can broken toys play together?” He asked shyly.

I smiled. “Of course.” He smiled too, drinking his hot chocolate. We left the small shop, our fingers laced together perfectly.

“Oh.” I stopped, spinning him around. “I really like peppermint.” He blushed and I kissed his cheek. “Just so you know.”


	9. Notes

The shift from winter to spring had started. The seasonal depression was drifting. The snow was melting. Things were looking up. I was changing in uncharacteristic ways: I had a bounce in my step, I was smiling, my head was always up. And people were noticing. It was almost hourly. ‘Hey, Zexion. You look good.’ ‘You look so happy!’ ‘You look different. It works for you.’

I couldn’t help it. I had been with Demyx for about a week by that point. We didn’t do much, mostly went for coffee or drinks and talked, maybe kiss a little. He gave me a high of all highs, something I hadn’t felt in quite some time.

I invited Jacqueline with us to the café one of the nights Demyx was playing (he did as he said and booked a couple gigs). She didn’t yet know, and I thought given all the grief I had given her those few weeks, she deserved to be first to know. Not to say she probably hadn’t already figured it out; the whole way over, Demyx tried slipping his hand into mine, around my waist, anything to be close to me, and I shifted slightly out of his reach each time, staring at him wide eyed, my cheeks red.

We sat in a corner table, out of eyesight of the makeshift stage. Demyx hated when I watched, and I would rather listen anyways. My eyes closed, I swayed to the sounds that left his guitar. It was beautiful, relaxing, well rounded.

“There’s a reason he’s a music major.” Jacqueline said, returning to our table with a drink for each of us.

I nodded. “He’s definitely amazing. At playing.” I felt a slight rouge rush to my cheeks, which I combated with a gentle cough, forcing it back down. She sat and smiled at me. “What?”

“Did you sleep with him yet?” She smiled widely.

“What?!” I said a little too loudly, earning some glares from the people sitting closest to us. I lowered my voice. “What would even give you the impression we’re together?”

“Zexion, honey, I know.” She sat back in her chair, taking a sip from her cup. I looked at her, feigning a baffled expression. “You’ve been happier since we last seriously talked. The only time I’ve seen you, you’ve been with him, and awfully close. The comment about him being amazing? Don’t think I didn’t notice. And,” She laughed. “The whole way here, you were glaring at him for trying to get close.”

There was no hiding the blush on my cheeks. “What’s it to you if we’ve slept together?”

“You definitely haven’t.” She nodded, setting her steaming cup down on the table between us. “How does it feel?”

I sighed. “Amazing. He’s fantastic. It just feels so real. Every day, there’s a note taped to my door, and on my seat in biochem.” I mused, lost in my own thoughts.

She chuckled. “I half expected that from you.”

I reached over and smacked her arm. “I wouldn’t do that. I’d be too embarrassed.”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “I remember hearing about one guy… Andrew was it?”

My eyes grew and an unbelieving smile cracked my face. “I did not. And how do you know about him?”

She rolled her eyes. “My friend’s brother’s girlfriend’s brother’s best friend. Apparently, you gave him a lot of notes. A lot.” She stressed, smiling.

“Whatever.” I brushed it off, my cheeks flaring red.

“Hey guys!” Demyx said from behind me, wrapping his arms around my neck and kissing my cheek. He instantly recoiled, puppy eyes begging for forgiveness covering his face.

I smiled. “It’s okay. She knows.”

“Phew. Good.” He smiled, flopping into the chair beside me.

“You did amazing.” Jacqueline smiled, her hand out for a high five.

He smiled and high fived her. “Thanks! And guess how much I made!” He didn’t wait for a response. “50 big ones!”

“Good job, Dem!” I smiled, hugging him. “Oh, and…” I pulled a scrap of paper from my pocket and gave it to him. He read it and blushed.

“Oi! Don’t keep me out of the loop. What does it say?” Jacqueline broke in, listening quietly prior.

I immediately covered his mouth. “Not for you, Jacqueline. But I did write you one.” I passed her another scrap.

“‘Find your own boyfriend?’ That’s all you got? Really? I’m ashamed.” She smiled.

I shrugged. “I do what I can. So, Demyx, what do you want-” I looked down. He was fast asleep, his cheeks still red. I smiled, kissing his nose gently. It scrunched immediately at the touch.

“You two are adorable.” Jacqueline watched on.

“Shut up.” I blushed, nudging him. “Demyx. Wake up.”

“Hmm?” He said groggily, rubbing his eyes.

I smiled. “Someone’s tired.”

“No…” He protested, yawning. I nodded and his head sunk. “Is it bedtime?”

I nodded again. “Let’s get you home, okay?” He nodded, leaned up and kissed me. Jacqueline laughed and I gave her the finger, something I’m still ashamed of. I pulled away. “Let’s go.”


	10. Contagious

My eyes eased open, the sun shining directly through the window into my eyes. I shifted my body to the side to get out of the sun and smiled. Demyx had convinced me to let him spend the night, no strings attached. His hair was messy, his eyelids fluttering gently, drool sliding down his chin. I smiled and brushed his hair out of the way, his face twitching slightly. His breath came easily in and out, in and out. I daresay he never look so beautiful, so real: the light bounced off his bare back and into his hair, his nose twitched, his ear tweaked. It took everything in me not to flip him over and kiss him, ravish his body.

Demyx’s bleary blue eyes opened, a sleepy smile caressing his face. “Morning Zexy.” He muttered, still half asleep.

“Morning Dem.” I smiled, brushing his hair back from his eyes. His nose crinkled. “How did you sleep?”

He smiled, turning his body to face me. My eyes drifted down his bare chest. He has abs? He has abs. “Good.”

I nodded, my eyes stuck to his sculpted body. I blushed, pulling my knees in tight. “You’re shirtless.”

He looked down and blushed as well, pulling the sheet over him. “I’m sorry. I got really hot.” He bit his lip, mirror image of myself. “I still have my pants on though.”

I chuckled. “That’s good. You… You don’t need to hide.” I said, pulling the sheet away from his face and chest. “It’s okay, really.” He blushed, folding in on himself. “Would it be easier… Would it be easier if I didn’t have my shirt on too?” I asked, really hoping he would say no.

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“Okay. Just… Okay.” I closed my eyes and slowly pulled my shirt over my head. I instantly curled in on myself, my arms wrapped around me, shielding him from the horrors he didn’t need to see.

“Zexy?” He asked, worry in his voice. “What’s wrong?” He looked at me, searching my eyes. “What don’t you want me to see?”

“Don’t laugh, okay? Or, you know, do anything else.” I said, turning my head away from him. Slowly he moved my arms away from myself. I closed my eyes, hoping beyond all hope that would stop his reactions from reaching me.

He traced his fingers over the many scars covering my chest. “What are these from?”

“I… Being beaten, and a brief affair with a razor blade and with heroin.” My skin felt red hot. Anything touching me felt wrong, more wrong than anything I had experienced before. “Please stop touching me.”

He recoiled. “Am I doing something wrong?” I shook my head. “Then what is it?”

“I… I’m… I’m just not comfortable with being touched.” A single, gentle tear slid down my cheek.

He pulled me into a hug. “It’s okay, Zexy. I won’t make fun of you or anything. I’m not gunna do anything to you.”

“But if you touch me, you’re going to-”

“Zexy,” He smiled, kissing the top of my head. “It’s not contagious. You’re not contagious. You’re gunna be okay, and I’m gunna be okay. We can do it together.”

I looked into his eyes. Everything he said was reflected in them. How couldn’t I trust him? He’d reacted better than anyone I’d ever shown or told. He didn’t laugh, he didn’t tell me I was stupid, he didn’t make fun of me. He approached it with honesty and openness, both things completely foreign to me.

“I did heroin once.” Demyx said into my hair.

I pulled away slightly. “What?”

He shrugged. “I was at a party one time. Some guy told me I would be cooler if I smoked with everyone. I didn’t know it was heroin.”

“What happened?” I asked, looking up at him.

“I didn’t feel good. I puked a lot, I got confused, I hyperventilated, I was itchy, I got a rash, my mouth was dry, I pretty well had a seizure.” He said, laying on his back, his arms stretched and palms behind his head.

I laid on his chest, hearing his heart beat quickly in his chest. “Sounds like a really bad trip.”

He nodded. “It was really bad. I never did it again, never, ever, ever.”

I smiled. “I’m glad.” I snuggled into him, breathing deeply. “So I’m not contagious?”

He laughed. “Of course not, silly! You’re a biochem major, aren’t you? How can you be contagious?” He pulled away. “You’re not sick, are you?”

“No. No I’m not.” I chuckled, leaning up and kissing him gently.

Both our cheeks flushed red. Kissing was something we’d have to get used to.


	11. Ignorance

“So,” Jacqueline asked, pouring me a drink of her own concoction. “How’s it going with him?” She nodded to Demyx, who was not far from the bar talking to his friends.

I smiled. “Things are great. He’s great.” I blushed, glancing over my shoulder. He looked so happy. The smile on his face was so fresh, so young, so adorable. I turned back to Jacqueline, a drink in front of me. “I really like him.”

“Have you said the word to each other yet?” she asked, leaning against the bar.

“The word?” I responded, taking a sip. “What is this? It’s good.”

“It’s called a ‘Mountain Dew Me.’ The L word. Love.” She smiled, toying with me.

I blushed red, taking another drink. “No. We haven’t even said we like each other. I’m just going with the idea that we both really like each other. Why? Should we have?”

She shrugged. “You say it when you’re ready. You’ve been together, what, a month?”

“Almost two.” I burped.

“Excuse you. You’ve been together two months. You should really say some kind of l word to him. Like, love, doesn’t matter. Hell, any form of ‘I like you’ should be said. Get on it, man. You’ve caught a keeper. Don’t lose him now.” She said, taking my empty glass from me. “Can I make you another new one?”

“Go on.” I waved to her, inviting the new tastes. “So I need to tell him I lo- I like him? Why can’t I just live in my fantasy of him and I liking each other?”

"I'm not saying you have to." She started, brewing a pot of coffee. "I'm saying you should. Make it official. Fantasies are fine, until other people are involved." She poured me a cup, added a few things, and placed it in front of me.

"Okay." I nodded and took a sip. "What's this one?"

"Butt sex. Is it good?"

"Butt sex is always good!" Demyx said very loudly, flopping into the seat beside me.

"Jesus Christ, Dem!" I said, shocked he'd have the audacity to say that. Then again... "How drunk are you, my boy?"

He thought for a minute, spinning in his chair. "Jackie made me 4 drunks. They were really good." He smiled, resting his head on the table. "I love you, Zexy."

"Oh Jesus." I muttered, turning to him. "You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."

"But I do!" He pouted. "I love you lots." He leaned forward and kissed me.

I kissed him back for a few seconds and pushed him away lightly, feeling the blush rise through my body. Beside us, a man grunted out something about 'flamers' and 'fruits'. I let it go. We were in a bar, everyone was a little toasty. "Okay, Dem. But I'm not saying that until we're both sober and we'll remember it."

He smiled dorkily. "Okay, Sexy Zexy." He spun on the chair, humming to himself.

"Tell me you've got something stronger." I begged Jacqueline, sliding my empty glass towards her.

"Course I do." She smiled, pretending her fingers were guns. I rolled my eyes, watching Demyx tell almost everyone in passing that he loved me. I didn't have the heart to tell him to stop; he may be both hands in the basket, but it was absolutely adorable. "Try this." Jacqueline slid a tall glass in front of me. "It's called a Suck, Bang, and Blow."

I took a rather large drink, the alcohol hitting me like a wave. "Holy shit. That's... Holy shit."

She smiled and crossed her arms. "Good then?"

"Oh yeah. Tastes exactly how it feels." I took another sip, my head knocked back. My head swam, the alcohol pushing me further to intoxication, further into doing things I would most likely later regret.

"Fucking fruit!" I heard, followed by flesh connecting and a squeal from Demyx.

My head whipped around. Demyx was on the ground, rubbing his very red cheek, the man from beside him standing above him, fist ready to attack. I stooped to his side. "What the fuck was that?!" I shouted at him. "Let me see, Demyx." I said sweetly, lifting his hand out of the way.

"He was fucking spreading his gay shit and I don't need to fucking hear about it!" The man shouted at me.

I stood, getting in his face. "And he fucking deserved to be punched in the face? How the flying fuck does that make sense?!"

"Its fucking disgusting! The bible says against it, and every god says it’s a sin! You fucking take it up the ass? Is that because that can't get any pussy?"

I lost it. I punched him in the face. Repeatedly. On the ground. "You fucking arrogant, ignorant asshole!" I punched him hard, bruising his face. A security guard pulled me off him and I kicked out, catching him in the testicles. He immediately curled into a ball. "Good fucking luck getting laid tonight, asshole!"

"Sir, you need to calm down." The security guard said, walking me to the door, my feet off the ground.

"I'll go." I breathed heavily. "I've outstayed my presence anyways." He set me down and I walked out of the club, anger rolling off me in waves. I walked a few shops down and slipped down the alley, kicking a garbage can. I yelled, releasing the anger.

Someone pushed me against the wall, spun me around, and kissed me hard. My eyes widened and slowly closed, losing myself in the warmth of the kiss.

"Thank you." Demyx whispered in my ear, his hand caressing from my waist to more sensitive areas.

"For... What?" I asked around moans.

"Standing up for me. It was a total turn on." He whispered huskily, clenching his hand around me.

I moaned loudly. "M-maybe we should take this back to my dorm?" I suggested, looking deep into his eyes, seeing only lust.

"Perhaps we should." He smirked and dragged me in the direction of my room.


	12. Under the Influence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be advised, this chapter does contain sexual content.

Demyx pressed me against my dorm room door, his teeth holding my neck captive. I moaned, my hands underneath his shirt, clawing at his back. “Demyx.” I gasped. “There are people… watching.” I breathed around groans of pleasure. True enough, there were open doors with heads sticking out, mixed looks on their faces. He didn’t ease up, if anything making me moan louder. Moving my hand, I fingered the doorknob, opened it, and we fell through the door.

“Jesus Christ, Demyx.” I breathed, pushing him off of me, and shut the door. “There were people watching!”

“Yeah, Demyx.” Jonathan, my roommate, said over a bowl of noodles. “Everyone knows you’re getting laid tonight, Zexion. Mind you, didn’t expect it to be another bloke.”

My eyes widened as I turned to him. “What are you doing here?! I thought you were in Leeds?”

“I was.” He nodded, scooping noodles into his mouth. “Got back here an hour ago. I did text you.”

“Zexy…” Demyx pleaded, passion and lust in his eyes.

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you have a girlfriend you could go see?” I asked Jonathan, my eyes begging him to leave.

He sighed and stood. “I’ve got condoms in my bedside table, along with lube if you need it. Turn the music up, the sound proofing in here isn’t that good. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He said, shutting the door behind him.

“Now,” I smirked, turning his music up. “Where were we?”

Demyx moaned and pulled me towards him. His lips roughly connected with his, his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. This kiss was far more… Intense than any other kiss him and I shared. Hell, that I had shared with anyone. This kiss was far more intense, far more deep, far more loving.

“Zexy?” He pulled away and asked me.

I blinked and looked at him. “I was thinking again, wasn’t I?” I panted. He nodded. I smiled. “How about you think about this?” I grabbed him and he moaned loudly.

“Good thing you turned up the music.” He panted, walking me towards my bed.”

“And why’s that?” I panted as he pushed me down on it.

He kissed his way up my neck and to my ear. “Because I’m going to make you scream.” He whispered, his voice dripping with lust.

I moaned and pulled him by the hair to me, our lips colliding. Our tongues wound around each other, twisting, licking, tasting each other, exploring the depths of the other’s mouth. He shifted positions and straddled me, his knees squished against my thighs. He arched his back  towards me slowly, grinding against me. I moaned into him, my fingers clawing at his back. “Fuck, Demyx!” I turned my head to the side, his lips automatically suctioning to my neck.

“Shirt. Off.” His hands clawed at my shirt, threatening from tearing it off me. I arched my back, allowing him to slide the fabric over me. He slid an arm under me and lifted me up so he could pull the rest off. “Top or bottom?” He whispered.

I bit my lip, holding back a pleasured groan. “Bottom. If that’s okay.”

He smirked, undoing my belt single handedly. “I love topping. Especially someone as sexy as you.”

I moaned, arching my hips. “What happened to you? You used to be so innocent.”

He slid my pants off, leaving only my boxers holding me captive. “The influence of alcohol changes me. Now shut up and feel.” His hand clasped around me, stroking easily, his lips kissing and sucking their way down my chest. I moaned loudly, my hands closing tightly on his shoulder, very easily bruising them. I pressed my eyes closed, intent on feeling more of this delicious pleasure. His hand maintained pace, his lips getting closer, closer, closer, damned near on top of me. He pulled away fully and I gasped, opening my eyes and looking down. His dark eyes showed nothing but pure lust, unlike the love I’d usually seen. Instantaneously, his head dropped, his mouth engulfing me over the boxers. My head lulled backwards and I moaned, my body relaxing completely at his touch. He slowly bounced his head up and down, pulling me in deeper and deeper.

“Gods, Demyx.” I moaned, my toes curling, my fingers balling, pleasure coursing through my body.

“Yes?” He asked, pulling off of me with a gentle pop.

“Please,” I moaned, thrusting towards him. “Please just fuck me!”

“Ah ah ah.” He tisked, pulling his own shirt over his head. “Patience is a virtue, Zexy.” He muttered, pulling the thin fabric from around my hips. He breathed slowly over the tip, sending my whole body into shudders. “May I?” He asked, hinting.

I nodded furiously. “Please! Oh, gods, please!”

“So be it.” He smiled, taking me in. I screamed in pleasure, his warmth heating me. He bobbed up and down, my core tensing, his hands feeling, my pulse racing. He swirled his tongue around, licking base to tip, circling the head, tonguing the slit. I began to sweat, begging myself not to cum. _Not yet, not yet._ I thought like a mantra. And it was true. He may have been enticing me in all the right ways, but not enough. My body demanded more.

And did he ever give more.

He deep throated me and slid two fingers into my tight ass. I screamed in pleasure, my toes curled painfully. My orgasm coming fast and hard, pouring down Demyx’s throat. Every part of me pulsed, my body feeling like pins and needles.

He pulled off of me and laid down beside me, panting just as hard as I was. “Damn.” He breathed, looking at the side of my head. I nodded, unable to speak, my eyes closed.

That familiar itch was back. Not only was I finally having sex, but it wasn’t some random one night stand. The fire was back, and I wasn’t about to let it end with that.

I rolled on top of him, ravishing his lips with mine, my hands fumbling around his belt and pants. “I want you inside me.” I whispered bravely in his ear.

“I’m yours for the taking.” He moaned throatily, his member at full mast.

“Good.” I whispered, sitting down roughly on him, moaning loudly, the feeling of being filled so fresh, new, painful, pleasurable, amazing, jaw breaking. I sat up straight, wincing at the angle and pressure change. His hands rested on my hips, clenched tightly, ready to steer if he needed to. I rocked gently back and forth, equating myself to this new pleasured pain.

He groaned, his trained eyes rolling back in his head. “Good bloody god, Zexion. Move or I’ll move you.” I moaned, pulled myself partially off of him and dropped back down. Pleasure overrode my mind; pleasure took over. Up down up down up down. Back forth back forth back forth. Grind slide grind slide grind slide. The feelings were intense, hard hitting, and fast. There gone there gone there gone. He began thrusting up to meet my body’s personal rhythm, increasing the pleasure.

All too fast, my stomach started to tense, the little nub buried deep inside me stimulated to the point of exhalation. All too soon I came hard, my seed spilling onto his chest and chin. His seed filled inside me, fast, all in one shot.

I flopped over him, smiling in self satisfied pleasure. “That was amazing.”

“Yeah.”

“I think I love you.”

“I think I love you too.”


	13. Decent

My eyes cracked open, the light from the window pouring directly into my eyes. I flinched, curling into the warm body beside me. My nose nuzzled the smooth chest, my hands grasping at the smooth abs. I breathed deeply, taking in Demyx’s sweet smell. His hand caressed my back lightly, tracing small circles into it. I looked up, vision obstructed by my hair.

He swept it out of the way and tucked it behind my ear. “Morning Zexy.” He whispered with a smile.

“Morning Dem.” I smiled back. Bloody nicknames got the better of me. “How did you sleep?”

“Amazing.” He sighed, pulling me in closer to him. “How did you sleep?”

“Just as good.” I curled in tighter to him. His strong body tingled beside me, his skin baby smooth and sleek. I blushed. “You’re naked.”

He chuckled slightly, his cheeks red. “That seems to happen, doesn’t it? Do you want me to…?” He leaned over the edge of the bed, picking up his pants.

“Don’t worry about it.” I smiled, looking down at myself. “Naked too.” I kissed his chest gently. “Did you enjoy last night?”

He shrugged. “It was decent. Nothing spectacular.” I smacked his arm, smiling. “It was good. Really good.”

“Good. I’m glad.” I nodded, burying my head. Sex has always been a touchy detail for me: when do you have it, do you talk about it, what do you do. Finally, it didn’t feel awkward. On the contrary, it felt absolutely amazing. Amazing being that close, that in tune with another person. I looked up, Demyx’s bright green eyes staring at me. “What?”

“Your eyes.” He smiled. “They’re so blue.” I blushed. “Seriously. They’re beautiful. You’re… Beautiful.” He blushed, the word sticking in his throat a little.

“Eh.” I shrugged, smiling. “You’re decent. Decently, amazingly, fantastically beautiful.” He stood, actually putting on his clothes. I rolled over and stared at his naked body, his muscular legs and arms, chiseled abs, baby face, and, well. He raised his eyebrows and smirked. I rolled my eyes, throwing a small pillow at him, which he artfully dodged. I grabbed my phone of the nightstand. Three text messages waited for me.

One from Eleri.

_Hey loser. Your mom is coming to campus today. She called me and said we should all get together._

_Sure. What time?_

One from Jacqueline.

_Hey player. How was your night? ;) Demyx seemed pretty determined for something when he left. I want the deets._

_It was amazing. Coffee later?_

One from Jonathan.

 _Let me know when you’re done fucking in our room or if I need to move in with Brittany_.

_Whenever you like. We’re heading out. The realm is yours._

I stood and put on my own clothes, Demyx’s eyes doing the same to me as I did to him. I turned around, fully clothed, rolling my shoulders. “Want to get something to eat?” He nodded, smiled, and stood. He bit his lip hard, holding something back. “What’s up?”

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, his ears turning red.

I smiled and pulled him down by the neck, our lips connecting. “You don’t need to ask.” I said, releasing him. He nodded and opened my dorm room door.


	14. All I Ask

I sat in the small coffee shop, waiting for Eleri and my mother. I read the campus paper, sticking mostly to the entertainment section. One of the many music critics had been to Demyx’s last performances, and I’d been diligent in finding the review. Today was my lucky day.

> _Rising campus star: Demyx Abney seems to have it close to made. He’s been playing at the Coffee Shoppe for a little over a month now and already has a noble fan base. A well deserved fan base at that. Demyx and his guitar bring the house down every Thursday and every other Tuesday. Do check him out. You never know, he may be the next Adam Young._

I smiled widely; a good review he definitely deserved.

“Zexion!” A higher pitched voice said from behind me.

I jumped up. “Mom. Hi.” I smiled, hugging her. I may hate her, but she’s paying for university. Best make a good impression.

“How are you doing, my son?” She smiled, sitting across from me, Eleri at her side.

I nodded. “Rather good. Keeping up, getting ahead of the game. I’m in a good position right now.”

“Good.” She nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. “Zexion, Eleri has told me some things about a boy.”

“Oh, here we go.” I muttered. “Yes?”

“She tells me that he’s gay. Is this right, Zexion?” She asked, a disapproving look on her face.

I nodded. “Yeah, he is. Why?”

Her and Eleri exchanged a look. “You know how I feel about homosexuals.” She spat out like a bad taste in her mouth.

“Mom!” I said, maybe a bit harsher than intended. “You told me you weren’t going to do this anymore. You promised.”

“I know, Zexion,” She started, taking another drink. “But I don’t want his… Illness rubbing off on you, my straight son.”

I nearly gagged. “Seriously, mom? Are you being 100 percent serious right now?” She looked at me, truly appalled. “You can’t catch ‘the gay’. If you could, than you would have it, and so would Eleri, and so would everyone else. News flash, mom: there are a lot of gay people in the world.” I breathed, taking a drink and forming my next thought. “Mom, I’m asking you nicely to let this go. I’m still going to be his boyfriend.”

She gasped. “You’re dating that… that thing? You’re gay?”

“Jesus, mom!” I said rather loudly, earning more than a few glares ad hushes. I lowered my voice. “Yes, I’m gay. You know that. I’ve told you several times.” She tried to interject, but I spoke over her, anticipating her thought. “I know you tried to turn me straight. To be honest with you, sending me to ‘straight camp’ was the best thing you ever did for me. It reinforced that I didn’t want to be like you.” I took a deep breath, calming down. “All I’m asking mom is for you to just let it go. I will always be gay, and you can’t change that.”

“And all I ask of you is for you to be different. Be straight. Please.” She begged.

I stood up. “I’m not dealing with your bullshit anymore. I’m gay, I’m happy being gay, and I’m not changing for anyone. If you don’t like that, disown me. Stop talking to me. Forget I exist. Do whatever you want. Because I’m done with your bullshit. You know, this could have been a lovely conversation, and you ruined it.” I walked away, ignoring their calls of protest. I’d dealt with this for 22 years. I wasn’t going to put up with it any longer.

“Jacqueline? Meet me at the club. I need a drink and a bartender to calm me.”


	15. Cry

“What can I get you?” Jacqueline asked from behind the bar.

“Whiskey. Straight.” I flinched. That word.

She passed me the drink, pouring herself a glass of water. “So.”

“My mother is a fucking bitch.” I said bravely, taking a long drink. “I hate her so much. Every part of her makes me want to… I don’t even know. Being in the same room as her makes me sick.”

She listened, nodding. “I still don’t know what happened, Zexion. You’ve got to tell me what happened.”

I took a drink. “So we met for coffee, mom, Eleri, and I. Turns out Eleri told mom about my hanging out with Demyx. She flat out hates gays. She said she didn’t want me hanging out with him because I would catch his ‘illness’.” I quoted extravagantly.

“Wait.” She stopped me. “She knows your gay, right?”

I nodded. “Yep. I must have told her ten times. You know, she sent me to ‘straight camp’ over the summer once?”

Jacqueline laughed. “Seriously? Want another?”

“Sure. Yeah. Sent me there hoping it would ‘fix’ me. Just to spite her, I slept with my first guy there. She still doesn’t know, but every time after that that I saw him, he was bright red and avoided me like the plague. His parents belonged to the same church as mine. Feel bad for the guy; being forced to be something he is very, very much not.” I mused, drinking half my newly filled glass. “Anyways, so she tells me not to hang out with Demyx, and I pretty well tell her I’m not being part of her life if she’s going to be a bitch. She can disown me and I could care less. I’m done with my family anyways. I’m not dealing with that bullshit.” I set the glass down harder than I expected.

“Zexion?” Jacqueline asked, her head to the side. “Are you crying?”

I touched my cheeks, wet streaks running down them. “I suppose I am, yeah.” I took a deep breath. “It’s just… It’s hard, you know? When your own mother can’t look at you because of something you can’t control. I tried. I tried being straight for her. I couldn’t do it. I… Everything we say isn’t to be repeated, got it?” I said sternly, feeling the whiskey hit my empty stomach. She nodded. “Good. I couldn’t be straight for her, so I turned to drugs. Thinking about it now, it doesn’t make sense, but I did it then. Heroin. I’ve still got the scars. I guess the heroin gave me strength enough to pretend. When that stopped working I started cutting. Damn, did that ever work well.” I let my mind drift back to my ‘straight’ days, the days of drugs and self harm. “How could she do this to me? Me, her straight A’s, perfectly behaved, only son?”

She shrugged. “Reputation.”

“Fuck reputation.” I said smugly, hammering the glass down. “Another.”

She looked at me. “Don’t you think you should slow it down a little?”

I rolled my eyes. “Let me have this one.” She got me another. I took a sip before talking. “You know what the worst part is? She promised she wouldn’t let this get in the way of our relationship. But every time she calls me, it’s always ‘have you found a girlfriend yet?’ or ‘how are the girls there? Any you could bring home to us?’ No, mom. I like men. I like penis. I like being fucked. Vagina scares me.” I laughed, Jacqueline joining. “Did you ever see Teeth?” She shook her head. “The chick in that movie had teeth in her vag. _Teeth in her vag!_ I mean, come on! Who does that? Why would you want to go there? Who would want to go there? Sure as hell not me. I’m not getting my dick bitten off by some psycho ass crazy.”

Jacqueline was bent in half, laughter shaking through her body. “Fuck, Zexion, you’re funny!” She had tears rolling down her cheeks, though I imagine they weren’t sad tears.

A man sat down beside me. “If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like a porn star please.” He said to her.

“Yeah, no problem. Want one too?” She asked me, still laughing. I nodded, chuckling.

“What’s she laughing so hard about?” He asked, leaning over to me.

“Ever seen a movie called Teeth?” He shook his head. “Well, it’s about a chick with teeth in her vag. I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to go and stick my man in there, if you know what I mean.”

He smiled, all teeth. “I know what you mean.” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Oliver.”

“Zexion.” I took his hand.

“Zexion… Zexion Kerner?”

“Yeah?” I said, confused.

He smiled. “How are you doing? I haven’t seen you since, well, since you left town!”

And then it dawned on me.

“You’re the one I slept with.” I said, the confusion gone.

He blushed. “That was me.”

“You were amazing.” I said, any filter I may have had completely gone.

He went redder. “Thanks.”

I nodded. “No problem.” Jacqueline returned with the drinks, Oliver reaching for his wallet. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it.” I smiled, handing her a $20.

“Thanks.” He smiled, taking a sip. “So how are you?”

I shrugged. “Can’t complain too much. Mom still hates me. You?”

“My parents finally accepted me.”

“Straight camp didn’t work for you either?” I asked, faking shock.

He laughed. “Considering we slept together, no. So… Are you seeing anyone?”

I shook my head. “Nope.” Jacqueline’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, but I hushed her with a glare.

“Me neither.” He finished the rest of his drink, finally relaxing.

I smiled. “He’s going to need another, Jacqueline.”


	16. Cheat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be advised, this chapter contains sexual content.

An hour later, we were both completely smashed. Completely, irrevocably, utterly smashed. Oliver, Jacqueline, and I laughed, Oliver and I finding everything much funnier.

“Oliver.” I laughed. “Come dance with me.” He nodded and stood, swaying slightly.

Jacqueline took my arm, holding me back. “Zexion, you have a boyfriend. Calm your shit. Even if you don’t want him to know that, remember.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” I pushed her away, following him into the abyss of dancers and loud music. We danced like loonies to the top songs of the week, occasionally bumping into other, innocent but just as drunk, people. We laughed, acting like complete maniacs, not a care in the world about our surroundings. It was him, me, and the music.

He pulled me close to him, grinding against me. Something in the back of my mind told me to stop, but every part of me wanted him to keep going, going, going. He tilted his head down and pressed his lips to mine almost desperately. I gasped, but kissed him back just as desperately. Everything around felt like a lag, the bodies moving around, the beats of the music. All that mattered was him and I, together, in that moment. I licked his lips, hoping for the entrance he quickly granted me, his tongue meeting mine in a hurried frenzy. We battled for dominance through the kiss, a battle I knew I would lose. His hands took me by the waist, steadying me as his hips ground into mine. I moaned, my knees buckling slightly. His strong hands held me up, sliding up the back of my shirt. I pulled away and stared at him, lust in both our eyes. With a smile, I pulled him towards the men’s washroom.

“Zexion!” Jacqueline grabbed my arm. Where did she come from? “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Letting loose.” I smiled at her, dragging him the rest of the way.

Luckily, there was no one else in the washroom. I pushed him into one of the stalls. He tripped slightly and landed on the lid of the toilet. He tried to get up, but I held him there and sat on his laps, grinding into him. He moaned. I cut him off, shoving my tongue into his mouth, my hands all over him; on his face, his chest, in his hair.

His hardened member rubbed against mine, enticing me, begging me. _No need to beg,_ I thought unzipping his jeans, pulling him lose from his holding cell. He moaned loudly, fire burning in his eyes. I smiled, got off his lap, and took him completely into my mouth. He shouted out. My eyes rolled back in my head, shutting down my vision and smell centers, enhancing my hearing, taste, and feel. My tongue traced up the vines on the underside of his member, around the tip down the top. He moaned loudly, thrusting gently into my mouth. I moaned, vibrating my vocal cords, sending pleasure through his body.

He pulled me up and my lips to him, licking off the drops of precum, unbuckling my belt. I shoved his hands away and undid them myself, sliding them down. I spat in my hand and rubbed it over his member. I knew that wasn’t going to work as lubricant, but I knew it was something he enjoyed, something that made him harder.

I positioned myself over him. He stopped me. “Are you sure you want this.”

“I’ve never been as sure in my life.” I breathed, dropping down. “AHH!” I shouted, the feeling of not being prepped and him being so large exploding pleasure through my body, racing through my veins. He took me by the hips and guided me up and down, up and down. My head lulled back, painful pleasure running through me.

"Jesus, Zexion!" Oliver gasped, his hips gripping my hips tightly, harder than probably necessary, but definitely added to the pleasure of the whole thing. My hands found their way to his hair, clenching around them, pulling him into a deep kiss. I rocked and rolled my hips back and forth and moaned, his huge member hitting me in the right places. I groaned, pulling a hand away and placing it on my own man. He broke away and looked down, groaning and thrusting into me hard.

"God, yes." I moaned, stroking myself quickly, bouncing up and down on him. With every thrust, every stroke, I came closer and closer to losing it, blowing all over the two of us. "Gods, make me cum!" I said, my voice pitched quite a bit higher than I expected.

"As you wish." He moaned, aiming directly for my prostate.

And my god, did he hit it perfectly.

I screamed in pleasure, exploding between the two of us, my semen shooting onto his sweater. My tight ass pulsed, squeezing him, milking his seed into my ass. I collapsed down on him, panting heavily.

He did the same. "Fuck, Zexion, that was amazing." I nodded, my breath as heavy as his. I stood up, wiped myself off, and redressed. He did the same. "Do you think we could…?"

I looked down at my watch. "Shit. I am so sorry. I have class in 4 hours and I need to get sobered up. Come with me." I took him by the hand back to the bar. "Can I borrow a pen?"

Jacqueline looked at me. "I can't fucking believe you."

"Just give me the fucking pen." I asked, holding my head, my hangover headache already setting in. She did so and I wrote my number on his arm. "Text me. We'll talk. I'm sorry." I gave him another kiss and walked quickly out of the bar.


	17. Passion

There was no way I could tell Demyx what happened. I had cheated on him, and I knew it would crush his heart. It should never have been done in the first place. Jacqueline tried to stop me. She told me repeatedly that I shouldn't, to think of Demyx, but that didn't stop me in my drunken state. I woke up the next morning, a raging pain in my ass. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't want to go to class, and I damned near thought about skipping. But it was a mandatory class. There was no way I couldn't go. I glanced over, my phone flashing.

_hey zexy! where are you?_

_i ran into your cousin and your mom. she seems mean. she didnt like me much…_

_zexy? are you okay?_

_what happened?_

_i'm coming to your dorm with warm water to stick your hand in then._

I smiled; he definitely knew how to defuse a tight scenario. But, like everything else in the world, there's that one thing that turns a good mood into one that brings on a flood of unwanted and unnecessary memories.

_Hey, Zexion. It's Oliver. I had a great time last night. Listen, I'm heading out in a couple of days. Think maybe we could get together and talk sometime before then? I hear there's a good coffee shop not far from here that an amazing guitarist plays at; I'll buy. If not, that's totally okay. Give me a shout._

I sighed heavily. Of course. Ignoring the pain I felt in the lower half of my body, I threw on some clothes, gathered my books, and ran to class. Nothing like biochem to clear your mind. I'd deal with it afterwards.

…

As I suspected, there was nothing in the mandatory class that I didn't already know. Hell, the guy who has shown up to class maybe once knew what the prof was saying. Nonetheless, I paid full attention, my attention distracted from the current problems at hand to for the chemical compounds that made up all of life, something you're taught in high school biology and chemistry, far beyond second year. We were dismissed from class a half hour early and I gathered my things. Demyx would be playing at the coffee shop right now, and as much as I didn't want to see him, I knew I would have to. Might as well see some passion in action before I broke his heart.

The outside air was cold for a spring day. _A cold front must be passing through,_ I mused, only to have my suspicions confirmed by some passing future meteorologists. I pulled my jacket closed around me and continued on, limping slightly to the shop. My pocket vibrated and sang incessantly, all of which I ignored. All that was important to me was seeing Demyx before someone else saw him first.

The coffee shop was packed. Not unsurprising, considering Demyx was playing, but still surprising given the viewers. On most days, his crowd consisted of about the same people: music, art, English, and computer science majors. Today, however, every faculty was here, including the ever elusive night school faculties. Standing in line, I closed my eyes, letting my ears gather in his soft, controlled sounds. His voice, his guitar, his breathing, his strums. Every bit so calculated. He played with such passion, passion I had never seen in anyone else. I ordered my drink and sat in my regular seat in the corner of the cafe, listening to his lyrical passions, taking in his every thought, every emotion, every feeling. _I can't do this,_ I thought. _I can't break his heart like this,_ my mind screamed. But I had to. I had to be the one to crush that passion.

After his set, he came bounding over, a drink in one hand, a binder in another, and his guitar strapped to his back. "Zexy! You're alive!"

I smiled, standing. "I thought I told you I didn't like being called Zexy."

"I know." He said with a wide smile, hugging me tight. We sat. "Where've you been?"

"I met with my mother yesterday."

"Oh yeah? And how was that?" He asked, leaning forwards.

I smirked. "She still doesn't like me. Hates that I'm gay with a boyfriend."

"Oh." He nodded. "I did get that impression when I ran into her and Eleri on campus… I thought I said something."

"You might have." I smiled. He smacked my arm. "After that, I had a therapy session with Jacqueline where I got rather drunk." I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, something he noticed. He cocked his head. "I am so sorry, Demyx." I dropped my head. I could already feel the tears welling in my eyes.

"Sorry for what?" He asked, placing his hand on my knee.

I shifted away from his touch. "I love you so much. Jacqueline told me not to, but I was so drunk. I just… I couldn't control myself. I feel horrible for doing it. Really, I do. I wish I didn't do it. God, I am so sorry." The tears fell silently, my voice barely wavering.

His hand slid under my chin, staring me in the eyes. "Tell me what happened, Zexion. I promise not to be mad."

I swallowed hard. "I cheated on you." I flinched, expecting him to pull his hand away. He didn't. "I ran into an old fling of mine, and we were both drunk, and one thing led to another, and we had sex." He pulled his hand away. "I am so sorry, Dem. So sorry." I cried heavily, my head in my hands. "If you want nothing to do with me now, I completely understand. I love you, and I want you to be happy." He was silent for a minute before laughing uncontrollably. I raised my head. "What are you laughing about?"

"Zexy." He smiled, took me by the chin again, and kissed me gently. "I know you did."

My eyes widened. "What?"

He put his hand on the side of the chair for stability. "I was in the stall beside you guys taking a pee. I know you were with him." I dropped my head, but he picked it back up. "And I forgive you. You were drunk, things happen. I get it. I love you. I couldn't ever not be with you." He said, wiping the tears from my eyes.

I scrunched my face, figuring out his double negative. "You… You forgive me?"

"As long as it doesn't become a habit for you to have sex in bathroom stalls with random strangers." He smiled, pulling me in for another kiss. "I'm far too passionate about you to let you go that easily." I smiled, giving into his gentle kiss. A couple girls at a nearby table giggled, their eyes trained on us. He pulled away and looked at them. "Yes, ladies?"

They all blushed, and a blonde spoke up. "You guys are really cute together. You're the one who plays here all the time, right?"

"That'd be me!" He said, smiling.

"Do you… do you think I could get a photo and an autograph?" She asked, her face completely red.

His eyes lit up, and he turned to face me. "I have fans!" He leaped up and went over to their table.

I laughed. There goes passionate Demyx, out to please not only his fans but himself. _What would I do without him?_


	18. Tempermental

"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yes, Dad." Demyx sighed, putting his fingers to his head in the form of a gun and pulling the fake trigger. I stifled back a laugh. "Dad, it's fine! Okay. Okay. Okay. Dad. Dad. Dad! You can't just say that! Right. I know. I'm sorry. Okay. Okay. Yes. Yes. Yes, sir. I'll see you then. Okay. Okay. Bye." He hung up his cellphone and flopped onto his bed in a huff.

I looked at him from his desk. "What was that about?"

"Dad wants me back in town for Mother's Day." He picked a ball off his nightstand and threw it in the air. "I have to bring someone, but I have to be careful around Mom, apparently her health isn't so good. Don't want to scare her and stuff."

I nodded, bouncing the eraser end of a pencil on the desk surface. "Who are you taking?"

"You, silly." He smiled, throwing the ball at me. Surprisingly, I caught it. He blushed. "I mean, if you want to?"

I blushed, just as deeply red. "Y-yeah, sure. When?"

He smiled widely and bounced to his feet. "It's on Wednesday. Dad's working all day Sunday and Monday, and Mom has an appointment on Tuesday."

"Okay." I nodded, smiling.

…

We stepped off the train around 10:30 Wednesday morning. The fresh Colorado air wrapped around me, greeting me as other passengers were by family and friends.

Demyx gave my hand a quick squeeze. "Welcome to my home." He smiled to me, and turned his head, looking for a familiar face. "Jordy!" He shouted, running to someone, dragging me along.

"Dem!" A redheaded girl said as he ran into her arms, knocking the wind out of her. "Good to see you, buddy!"

"Good to see you too, sis. I missed you! How are you?"

She smiled, taking his bag from him. "I'm good. How are you?"

He yawned through his smile. "I'm good. Jordy, this is Zexion."

"Jordan." She beamed, offering a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." I smiled awkwardly, shaking.

She led us to a beat up car in the parking lot, her and Demyx talking away like mad. I listened quietly, nodding when appropriate. Several times, he brushed against me, his eyes asking the question, _are you okay?_ I smiled and nodded, filling him with false truth: nerves racked through my body. What if his family hated me? We clambered into the car, Jordan in the driver's seat, Demyx laying across the back seat, and myself somehow in the passengers seat. When we were all buckled in, Demyx in a way in which he couldn't and wouldn't move if he tried, Jordan hit the gas.

Not five minutes from the train station, he was fast asleep. I glanced back at him, sighed, and smiled. "Finally." Jordan's eyes flashed to me, curious. "The whole ride here, he was bouncing with excitement. I could barely get him to sit down and be quiet. And he wouldn't sleep. Not even at three in the morning." I chuckled.

She rolled her eyes. "He's like that. So how long have you known each other?"

"Uh," I scraped through my memory, searching for the date. So much had happened since then. "About eight, maybe nine months."

"Right around the beginning of the year, then." I nodded, looking out the window. "How drunk was he?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, my jaw dropped.

She turned fully to face me. "When he kissed you?" My eyes widened and she laughed, turning down a dirt road. "If there's three things I know about my younger brother is one, he gets anxious and talkative when he's nervous; two, he kisses anyone when he's drunk, particularly those he finds attractive; and three, any hickey he leaves on anyone looks suspiciously like a tree."

I touched the side of my neck. True enough, the hickey he'd given me not 18 hours ago was swollen into the skewed shape of a tree. "Oh." I whispered, my voice small in my throat.

"So? How drunk was he, and how long have you been together?" She insisted.

"Oh, um… He was drunk enough that I had to walk him home, and I guess about as long as I've known him." I blushed red, my hand covering my neck.

"Awe." She breathed, turning into a long driveway leading to what looked like a ranch. "Well, this is home."

I stepped out of the car and gasped. The house was huge: tall pillars formed the patio, a delicately tended to garden to the left of the stairs, huge stones forming the outside wall. "Holy…" I gasped.

"Holy is right." Demyx punctuated with a yawn, his arm draped carefully around my waist. "This is my house. Shall we?"

I nodded and followed him, taking in my surroundings. He opened the door bravely. "We're home!" He called, holding the door for me and Jordan.

"Demy, honey. So good to see you." A woman popped around the corner, her slippered feet sliding against the floor as she came to hug him. She held him at arms length. "Well, university has been good to you." She smiled, slapping his abs lightly.

A massive, tall man I can only assume was his father came through the door behind us. He smiled, his teeth rotten and his breath smelling of tobacco. "Well, I'll be. My boy, home from university." He pulled Demyx into a headlock, rubbing his fist in his hair.

My blondie shrieked in laughter, tapping his dad's arm. "I can't breathe!" He wheezed, a smile on his face.

"Let's get you some tea, mom." Jordan smiled, ushering the woman back where she came.

Righting himself, Demyx took a deep breath. "Dad, this is Zexion."

I almost immediately stuck my hand out. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Taggart."

He took my hand, enveloping it in size. "Call me Joseph." He released my hand and eyed me up and down. "You two bumping uglies?"

"Dad!" Demyx's eyes shot open, along with my own. "Zexion, could you maybe go see if my mom needs any help? Dad and I need to talk." He took his father by the arm and threw him out the door, his eyes fuming.

I walked in the direction Jordan and their mom had gone, my head swimming and completely dazed. Had that really just happened? I sat at the kitchen table and pressed my hands against my temple, exhaling for the first time. A mug of tea landed in front of me and I jumped, glancing up.

Jordan's face held a small sympathy smile. "I'm sorry about that. Dad isn't shy about things; he doesn't like to beat around the bush. He can be quite… Temperamental about things, too." She mused, staring at the empty seat across from her. She blinked, regaining her focus. "Oh, mom, this is Zexion."

I turned and smiled to her. "How are you, Mrs Taggart?"

She smiled, her cheeks rosy. "Please call me Rose, sweet heart. I'm so glad you came for Mother's Day. Did you visit your mother on Sunday?"

I shook my head. "No, she and I have an understanding in which I'm no longer welcome at home."

"Why's that?"

"Uh…" I bit my lip. How much is too much to say? "She… She doesn't like the people I associate with."

Jordan rolled her eyes. "He's gay, mom."

She blinked, withdrawing slightly. "Oh. Is your mother not alright with that?"

"Well, so long as I don't have a boyfriend. Unfortunately…" I took a sip of tea. A little strong for my liking, but still quite good. "Unfortunately, I now have one, which immediately disowns me from the family."

The older woman nodded. "Strongly religious?"

"Latter Day." I nodded. "I never was a fan of religion."

"I know much about them." She smiled. "So, who might the lucky man be?"

I blushed, my neck and ears burning. "Your son, if that's alright."

She smiled widely. "Sweet heart, that's more than alright, as long as you make him happy, and you're happy with him."

I smiled. That had to have been one of the nicest things I'd heard in quite some time.


	19. Stumble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be advised, this chapter contains queer slurs and family conflict.

We sat at the dinner table, our hands linked and our heads bowed in a simple prayer. _God, please bless this food we are about to eat._ Our hands broke apart and we served ourselves, Joseph of course starting. We made small talk throughout the meal; I stayed quiet as much as possible as Demyx recounted his university experience thus far to his family. Whenever he mentioned my name, Joseph would glare at me, annoyance mixing with anger. I shuddered. Demyx had told me before dinner that his dad wasn't tolerant of 'fags.'

There was a lull in the conversation, one that the man of the house jumped on. "So Zexion," He spat at me. "What about your family?"

I set down my knife and fork and placed my hands in my lap, attempting to cover the shaking. "My father is a minister, and my mother is a secretary."

"Under what church?" He asked, cutting violently into his slab of bloody meat.

"L-latter Day Saints."

"Hmm." He set his fork down and brandished his knife as a weapon. "So they hate fags like you, too?"

"Joseph!" Rose shrieked, her fork and spoon clanking to the plate. Jordan jumped to the rescue, leading her mother from the room as swiftly as she had earlier.

I took a deep breath. I was braver than backing down. "I'm sorry if I offend you, sir, but what exactly is your issue with me?"

"You're a fucking queer!" He said loudly, his hand forcefully hitting the table.

I glanced at Demyx. His face was frozen in fear, his hands frozen in mid air. I pushed them down gently and looked back to his father. "Yes, I am _gay,_ " I said, putting emphasis where it was needed. "But I assure you, there are other qualities that I have that aren't based on my sexual orientation. I'm smart, I'm quiet, I'm friendly, I enjoy playing video games. I'm sorry, but unless you have another way of articulating your standing issue with me, I really am no help to you." I said nonchalantly.

His jaw dropped slightly. He quickly regained his composure, however. "You're diseased and you've made my _straight_ son sin. My son is _not_ a fag like you. You better leave him alone. He doesn't want to be like your kind."

"How do you know, dad? How do you know?" Demyx spoke up, stumbling slightly over his words. "You never ask me what I want. What if I do want to be like him? What if I want to be with him?"

"He's brainwashed you, can't you see that?!" He shouted at his son.

"Excuse me," I interjected, trying to keep my voice steady. "I think you were talking to me." His head whipped around to me, his face resembling a snarling wolf. "I have not brainwashed your son. I fell in love with your son, and he fell in love with me. Both independent feelings from independent people who weren't talking to each other at the time. Your son is entitled to his own feelings, opinions, likes, dislikes, and I honor that. I would not brainwash anyone."

His teeth flared, but Demyx jumped in before he could snarl. "Dad, you know I was sleeping with guys and girls before him. You've walked in on me with both! How could someone I never met before manipulate me into being gay when I already was?" He stood forcefully, his hands pressed tensely into the wooden table top.

"Don't you say-"

"Say what, dad? The truth? You can deny it happened all you want, but it still happened every time, and you knew that! I know what you're thinking, and I'm not doing it. I'm not breaking up with Zexion. He's the greatest person I know, and if you don't like it, that's. Not. My. Problem." He pushed his chair away from the table, heading to the kitchen.

I followed quickly and intercepted him. "Dem…"

"Don't, Zexion. Just… Don't." He pushed past me. "Thank you for the food, mom. As always, it was delicious. Unfortunately, Zexion and I have outstayed our presence." He gave his mother a tight hug. "I love you so much. Jordan, think you could give us a lift?" She nodded and grabbed her keys. He kissed his mother's cheek. "You know where I am. Call, anytime."

She smiled weakly and nodded. "I'm sorry about your father, Demyx."

"Don't be. You can't control him. Bye mom. I love you."

"I love you too, honey. Have a safe trip back." She smiled.

Cautiously, I gave her a hug. "Thank you so much, Rose. It was lovely meeting you. Happy Mother's Day."

A small tear slid down her cheek. "Thank you, Zexion. Take care of my baby boy." I smiled and nodded, following a scared Jordan and a very pissed off Demyx past his livid father and out the front door.


	20. Forward

The week following, Demyx was volatile: we'd be talking, and within the frame of one sentence his emotional output could change upwards of six times. It was shocking, it was terrifying, it was getting old.

I sat in my usual spot at the back of the cafe, listening to his voice blend easily, soulfully with the easy strumming of his guitar. He'd been playing every day, sometimes even twice, three times. It was the only time I knew he was okay, he was functioning, he was still sane.

After his second set of the day and thunderous applause, he fought through the crowd of fans and over to me. "Sorry, guys." He smiled. "This is a no-fan zone." He said, sitting beside me in the vastly oversized chair. Extremely quickly, the crowd dispersed, leaving him all to me. "Hi."

I smiled, giving him a quick kiss. "Hey. So, how'd it go?"

He slung his arm over my shoulder and I curled up to him. "Really good. I made $300 today."

"Congrats." He was really pulling in the money, part of it going to recording an album professionally, the other part to various charities.

"Thanks." He took a sip of my coffee, shuddered, and sighed. His head lolled backwards as he relaxed, breathed, stayed calm. "I wanna learn how to play a flute."

"Don't you know how to already?" I asked, stunned.

"No. I can play guitar, drums, bass, sitar, saxophone, percussion, and piano. I'm learning the flute." He added forcefully.

I shuddered away slightly. "Demyx…"

He sighed, dropping his head into his hands. "I'm sorry, Zexy. I'm just…" He sighed heavily.

I rubbed his back gently. "I know, Dem. Maybe we should get out of here, go for a walk?"

An hour and a half later, our feet carried us to my empty dorm. He had relaxed quite a bit, but I could still feel the waves of anger and frustration. We rode the elevator quietly, him relaxing, and I judging how best to talk to him.

I was not expecting what happened when we walked into my room.

He pushed me against the back of the door, his hands pinning me tightly. He thrust his lips to mine, bruising them. My whole body froze. This wasn't Demyx. He would never do something like this; he's too innocent. 

When I recovered from the shock I put my hands on his chest, pushing desperately hard, trying to push the bigger, taller man away from me. If he wanted it, he just had to ask. He'd never have to force anything out of me. His body refused to move, if anything pressing closer. His tongue pried my lips apart and forced his way in, shoved his tongue to the back of my throat, decency gone entirely. Angered, I gave a triumphant shove, and he rocked backwards, giving me room to escape. "What the fuck, Demyx?!" I screamed. His eyes were clouded; cloudy with confusion, understanding, lust, hate, anger, sadness. "Jesus." I said, flopping into the chair at my desk. 

He dropped his head and sat on the floor where he stood. He rubbed his kneecaps meticulously. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry Zexy." He muttered into his chest. 

Carefully, I slid from my chair and crawled over to him. I raised his chin. "Tell me what's going on. You're... Different. Let me help you."

"I'm just… I'm so angry." He said, raising his tear stained face. "Why would he say that? He knew that I like guys and girls. I've brought boyfriends and girlfriends home loads of times. He's never had, well, he's never told me his problem with it before. Why would he do that?"

I pulled him into a hug, letting him cry on my shoulder. I didn't realize, until that moment, how much his father meant to him. I rubbed his back, coaxing his tears out of him. "It's okay, Dem. It's going to be okay."

"How can it be okay?" He muttered into my chest.

"I… I don't know. But it will be okay. For now, though, you need to forget about him and move forward. What do you care what he thinks? I love you, you love me, and that's all that matters."

He looked up at me, his eyes watery and his nose running. "I'm really sorry for how I acted. You didn't deserve it."

I shrugged. "It's okay."

"Okay." He took a deep breath and exhaled. "You're right. Only you matter to me. Screw him. We should go to dinner. He stood, pulling me up and hugging me close. "Thank you."


	21. Easy

I opened my eyes. His messy blonde hair reflected the light around the room. His cheeks were red, accenting his light freckles. His long eyelashes fluttered with every steady, quiet breath he took. His strong arms held me tight to him, in the same position he was when we'd fallen asleep together in his room.

He made it so easy to love him.

Back when we were at his house, he took me up to his room. I had so many preconceived notions of what I'd find: instruments, recording equipment, posters, clothes on the floor, a thin layer of dust over everything. But it was nothing like that. It was a small room, really only big enough for a desk, bed, and a dresser. To conserve space, he had a loft bed with a desk underneath, and a small dresser. He had an old laptop, guitar, a couple books, white walls. It was simple, delicate. At least, I thought it was. He turned a backlight on the side of his desk on, and turned off the overhead light. His walls lit up with lyrics to the songs he'd written, moments of anger and doubt, doodles, full drawings. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. 

His half of the room on campus was much the same. Sheets of paper were tacked up everywhere, these happier drawings and lyrics, less tortured but just as amazing. He made it so easy to love him.

I felt him shift slightly in his sleep. His bare chest moved against mine, gently rubbing against mine. I loved how he forgot about my scars. Scars that littered my body, focused mostly on my chest. When we had been lying in bed the night previous, just lying, talking, nothing that hinted at any other activity, he traced his fingers over each of my scars. _I think these are pretty, Zexy,_ he said to me. No one had ever told me that before. Anyone else who knew about those and my other, countless flaws backed away at the nearest opportunity. He didn't. He kissed every scar, every scratch, every technical flaw on my body. He held me close, reminding me that I was never alone, that nothing would stop him from protecting me from myself, my own worst critic. He didn't ask any questions as to why I used to cut, who used to beat me, why I resorted to heroin; I frankly don't think he cared. No, he never asked. He accepted me the way I was. He made loving him so easy.

I stared at his face, his neck, his hair. His collar bones were prominent, strong. His neck was smooth and polished, save for a still bruised hickey from a few nights ago. His ears were small, perfectly framed his head, the cartilage piercing in the top of his right ear catching the sun and bouncing it back. His hair framed his face perfectly. Honestly, I liked it better messy; it made him look younger. His lips were folded into a small smile, parted slightly so he could breathe, the air slowly entering and exiting with every heave of his chest. He looked beautifully peaceful, peacefully beautiful. I rested my hand delicately on his cheek, feeling that warmth that he always admitted, the love and happiness that radiated through his lightly tanned skin. Slowly, his eyes opened up, revealing that crystal clear ocean blue I would love to get lost in, drown in. "Hey." He whispered, the sound moving around perfect vocal cords, teeth and lips.

"Hey." I smiled. He made it so easy to love him.


	22. Go

"Can we go? Can we go? Can we _go?"_ Demyx bounced on my bed, the massive movements shaking me almost off the bed onto the floor.

I cringed, holding onto the sheets for dear life, my eyes still closed as if sleeping. "What time is it then?" I muttered, my face pressed into a pillow.

He stopped bouncing briefly, I assumed to look at the clock. "8:30."

I sighed. "And what day of the week is it?"

"Sunday!" He said, the smile evident in the sound of his voice.

I rolled over, my face almost pressed to the wall, my back to the energetic blonde. "And what did I say about Sundays?"

"You said… You said…" He thought, the weight on the bed shifting to him sitting down. "I don't remember."

I knew he would forget. It was inevitable. "I said that Sundays were sleeping in days, til 9:30 at least."

"Oh." He whispered. "I guess I'll let you go back to sleep, then."

I sighed, rolled over and sat up. His head was turned down, his lip was quivering, as it usually does before he cries. I took his chin and raised his head, simultaneously pulling him towards me. "Hey. No tears." He smiled lightly, the quiver just as prominent. "I'm already up, so we might as well get ready and head out, okay?"

I knew his eyes would light up. "Really?" I nodded and he cheered, rolled off the bed and completely stripped.

I blinked, taken aback. "What are you doing?"

He turned to me and blushed. "I'm putting on my trunks now so when we get to the pool I don't have to change there. Is that okay?" I chuckled and stood, hugging him. His body shivered slightly. He pulled away gently and tugged the trunks over his narrow hips. "How do I look?"

I smiled. They were sky blue with white, whisky clouds on them. "Amazing."

"Good." He smiled, pulling his shoulders up to his ears. "Do you have anything?" He asked, pulling a hoodie over his muscled chest. I shook my head; swimming and I never did get along. He dug through the bottom drawer of his dresser, throwing things out and muttering to himself. After a good two minutes, he stood back up. "Here. These are my old ones. They might fit."

I nodded and turned around. No matter how many times we were intimate, I hated him looking at my naked body. I shimmied into the slightly too big suit, tied the string tightly at the top, and turned back to face him. "And how do I look?"

He smiled, pulling me to him by the waist. "Very cute." He smiled, bending and kissing me.

I blushed deep red and broke away. "We should get going. Don't forget your towel."

…

We walked- well, I walked, Demyx bounced into the packed changing room. There were men of all ages there, in various stages of nudity. I dropped my head, trying so hard to keep the rising blush from my neck and cheeks. Demyx walked confidently towards an empty locker and I followed him, the back of his flip flops my only guide of where I was going. I could feel my anxiety building. I was going swimming. For fun. With Demyx. Without a shirt on. It had been years since I'd been shirtless before that night with Demyx. I was uncomfortable enough as it was then. How was I possibly going to do it in front of a group of men and women of all ages? I took a step back. "I- I can't do it."

"Zexy?" He turned around, worry in his eyes.

I shook my head. "I can't go out there. I'm sorry, but you'll have to swim by yourself." I turned to leave.

He pulled my back by my arm. "Zexy, you can do this. I know you can. You're, like, super amazingly brave. And besides, who's going to look?"

I glanced around. People were already looking at me. I shook my head. "No. I can't do it."

"I know you. I know you can." He looked at me dead in the eye. "Please." His eyes begged, so desperately wanting me to do this. For him.

I tried to slow down my breathing and nodded. "O-okay."

He smiled and pulled me into a hug. "Thank you." He whispered. "I promise I'll protect you." I nodded and pulled off my hoodie, then very slowly my shirt. I tossed my clothes into the locker and wrapped my arms around myself. "Ready?" He asked, eyeing me closely. I sighed and nodded. He stood and took one of my hands away from my chest, encasing it in his.

"Here we go."

...

We laughed and fell onto my bed, each of us holding a bag of take out. "Did you see his face when you said you were attacked by a bear once?" Demyx laughed impossibly hard, folding in half. Demyx had told me the best way to combat the stares were to make up reasons for my scars; shock therapy if you would.

I laughed, pulling my styrofoam container from the bag. "And that old lady. 'Sorry, man. I have an extremely rare, contagious skin condition that causes my skin to erupt like a volcano. I can't control when it happens. In fact, I think I can feel it flaring up now.' Her face!" I gasped for air. It was horrible to lie like that, and some of the things I said were downright rude, but it made people stop staring at me. I leaned against the wall, my breath steadily coming back to me. "Thank you."

"For what?" He asked, noodles pouring out of his mouth.

"For today. It was the best time I've had in quite some time."

He smiled, swallowing hard. "You're welcome. I had a lot lot lot of fun today. It wouldn't have been nearly as much fun if you didn't come." I blushed and he scooted closer to me. "I'm really happy you went for it. You know, the whole no shirt thing."

I shrugged. "It was nothing." He looked at me, disbelief on my face. "That was a lie. I don't know why I said that. I wanted to make you happy, and it would make you happy if I went with you. And besides," I bumped into him, making him smile. "I wouldn't have gotten to eat Chinese with you."

He smiled. "I love you, Zexy."

I pulled him into a gentle kiss. "I love you too, my little fish."

"I'm not a fish!" He laughed, smacking me with a pillow.


	23. Beautiful

My mother had been serious in her threats to disown me: she called me a week later. “Zexion, unless you change your habits, your father and I will have no choice but to disown you.” She said, her voice pleading me against it.

I smirked. “I really like him, mother. If you and dad can’t accept that, then I want nothing to do with you.”

“Now, now, Zexion. Don’t get temperamental with me. Your father and I are looking out for your best interest. We want you to be successful.”

I breathed heavily. “Mother, my being gay isn’t going to affect how successful I am, just like how your being a heterosexual doesn’t affect your success. If that’s what you and dad have decided, that’s your prerogative.”

“A-alright. Goodbye.” She hung up.

I smiled. If she didn’t want to be in my life, that’s on her, not me.

“Zexy?” Demyx asked from behind me, lying shirtless on my bed, his books spread around himself. “I really am hopeless at this.”

I laughed, sitting beside him. “And what might you be hopeless at?” He showed me the question. Pre-calc. What a breeze. “And you need to know how to graph it?” He nodded, his brow furrowed, a pencil clamped firmly between his teeth. I grabbed one from off the bed and pulled a piece of paper towards me. “Read me the question?”

“Y=7(1/4(x+3))-9.” He read from the textbook and leaned over my shoulder.

“Okay.” I started, pushing my glasses up my nose. Let’s start with the easy stuff. Do you know what each of the letters in y=af(b(x-h))+k?”

He nodded. “A is the vertical stretch, and if it’s negative, it’s flipped on the x axis. B is horizontal stretch, and a negative b means flip on the y axis. H is a slide left and right, and k is the  up and down slides.”

“Awesome.” I smiled. “So what don’t you get?”

“How to figure out the vertical and horizontal stretches.” He said sheepishly, burying his face into my mattress.

I smiled. “Well, the bigger the a value, the taller it gets. The smaller the a value, the shorter it is.” I demonstrated with my arms, pulling a laugh out of him. “And b is 1 over the absolute value of b. The closer the fraction is to one, the wider it is, and the closer to zero it is, the narrower it is.”

“Okay…” He whispered, thinking. He put his pencil to the paper, quickly dropping it. “I don’t care. Let’s go for a run.” He smiled widely, pulling his shirt back over his head and dragging me out the door.

I laughed as he dragged me along, down the hallway of my dorm hall, outside, across the lawn, across campus. It felt good to be outside, to be spontaneous, to run. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ran so freely, wind hitting me square in the face. And to have Demyx bring that out of me was… Amazing.

He collapsed into a panting heap by the pond. I fell beside him, my chest heaving, my lungs burning. We looked at each other and laughed. None of it made sense, and I was okay with that. I was more okay with it than I had been with anything else in my life.

I rolled to face him. In the sunlight, his face looked beautiful. I didn’t want to disturb him, but he turned to face me. “What?”

“You’re amazing.” I smiled. He blushed, shaking his head. “Yes. Absolutely, positively, fantastically, amazing.” My hand caressed his cheek lightly.

“Yeah, well, uh..” He fumbled, looking for a word, some sort of comeback. “You’re beautiful.”

I bushed beat red, but smiled all the same. Being told I was beautiful was the single greatest thing I’d ever heard. “I love you, Demyx.” I pulled him forward, kissing him delicately, gently, like you’d expect a first kiss to be.

“I love you too, Zexy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading, and please consider reading the other perspectives! [when i get them up.]


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